Aftershock
by Lo613
Summary: At first, there's the initial wave. Then, always, there's an aftershock. Earthquakes are a bit like life in that respect. Rated for discussions of PTSD, and some language.


**I felt like being evil and so I wrote this. Enjoy! Disclaimer- I'm thirteen. I don't own anything. Much less Doctor Who.**

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It didn't take her long to notice it. A week and a half at most. Actually, she had seen it after only a few days, but had kept her silence until she was positive that her suspicions were right.

It took her considerably longer to confront him about it.

**oOo**

The Doctor walked around the TARDIS, flipping switches and pressing buttons as she did so. He pulled a final lever and leaned on the TARDIS console, staring at it. Rose pushed off the guard rail and made her way over to the Time Lord, standing next to him, and watched. Didn't say anything, just watched.

The Doctor's hands were trembling slightly as they rested on the console. Not much, just enough for her to notice. Rose wasn't terribly alarmed by it; The Doctor had just come face to face with what was apparently his oldest, most deadly enemy after all.

That and the fact that she had seen the shaking before. Actually, it seemed more difficult for her to recall times when she hadn't seen the shaking than times when she had. Whenever she took a moment to look for it, she could se it. The shaking, it was always there.

And it was as if the Doctor didn't even notice it.

The Time Lord stood up straight from the console.

"There we are then. Crisis averted, world saved, and we're back in the Vortex as we should be." He said, his strong Northern accent cutting through Rose's train of thoughts, grinning widely at her as he spoke. Rose smiled back, but it couldn't be called genuine. Not when she was so distracted by the Doctor's ever shaking hands, not when she was so desperately curious. She wanted to get the Doctor to talk. Not his usual empty technobabble that managed to be about everything and nothing at te same time, but actually talk. But she knew the Doctor well enough; She knew that any attempts to talk about the persistent shaking in his hands would not be welcomed. Knew that if she tried he would snap at her and retreat further into himself, becoming more secretive and withdrawn than he already was.

The Doctor continued grinning and Rose wanted to slap him.

**oOo**

The Doctor motioned wildly with his hands as he babbled on, this him seeming to talk even faster than his previous regeneration. He was a bit different in that respect, Rose ad noticed, among other things as well. This him was taller, skinnier, and actually had hair. This him constantly wore a (fake) smile that (almost) reached his eyes. This him laughed more, though at times it seemed less real than before. And of course there was the most noticeable difference as well; This him had an entirely new face (mask) for her to get used to.

One thing that hadn't changed though, Rose observed as the Doctor finished his speech and finally fell silent, watching a screen on the TARDIS, was the shaking in his hands.

It had carried over his regenerations.

Rose couldn't hold her curiosity any longer. She had to know what it was about, had to get the Doctor to talk.

"What's that about then?" She asked, voice carefully careless. The Doctor glanced over his shoulder, turning towards Rose.

"What's what about?" He questioned, genuinely curious. Actually curious, his tone really light, the expression on his face seeming to be truly happy.

Rose almost didn't ask, didn't want to ruin this moment for him.

But she had to.

"Your hands." She clarified. "They're shaking."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow and looked at his hands for a moment, examining the shaking that Rose was referring to, and turned his gaze back to her, giving a slight shrug in response.

"Must be low blood sugar." He brushed off.

"Really? 'Cause its been going on for a while." Rose said. No way was the Time Lord getting out of the question that easily.

"Well, I haven't eaten in the last few days-" The Doctor began.

Ignoring the blatant and probably true statement that the Doctor had just made about his unhealthy eating habits, Rose cut him off.

"No, when I say that its been going on for a while, I mean that its been going on for the last year, Doctor" She pressed, not backing down even a inch. The Time Lord's face visibly fell.

"Oh... " He muttered, running a hand through his hair, sticking it up even more.

"Yeah. Care to explain at all?" Asked Rose. The Doctor leaned against the guard rail.

"It's nothing, really. It just happens." He said, refusing to look Rose in the eyes.

"What, you've always had this tremor in your hands?" Rose asked scathingly. "You've got some suppressed emotions at work there?" She inquired, well aware that she was pressing the Doctor into a danger zone, but needing to do it anyways, refusing to let her friend weasel his way out of this. The Doctor flinched at Rose's words.

"I- I didn't- I don't-" He stammered out. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Yeah." He admitted. "Something like that."

"So talk about it." Said Rose, her voice changing into something resembling maternalism, ironic, considering their age gap. "Tell me what's causing it."

"...Rose," Said the Doctor. "I fought in the biggest war the universe has ever seen. On the front lines. I saw the fall of Arcadia, hell, I made it happen! I met the Nightmare Child, and I killed my race, Rose." He managed, his flow of words constricted and choked by this point. "_Genocide._ I watched my planet burn." He finished and took a gulp of air, his next words rushed."I'm sorry, I shouldn't be telling you this, I'll deal with it, it's-"

"PTSD." Rose interrupted. The Doctor shot her a bewildered glance.

"What?" He asked, clearly thrown.

"PTSD." Rose repeated. "Post traumatic stress disorder."

"Rose," The Doctor started. "That doesn't make any-"

"It makes perfects sense." Said Rose, watching the Doctor closely now, almost disbelieving of her own diagnosis. "It would explain a hell of a lot, that's for sure. The shaking, the way you don't talk about anything to anyone, how you're always looking around all the time, all of it."

"It's- It's not PTSD, Rose." The Doctor denied through clenched teeth.

"And how would you know?" Rose challenged.

"Because I'm me!" The Doctor exclaimed.

"Yeah, and you would never admit to PTSD!" Rose argued. The Doctor fell silent.

"That's not the point." He muttered darkly. "The point is that you're over thinking this."

"You just told me that you fought on the front lines of a massive war! Maybe you're under thinking this, cause I'd love to know what you write everything off to be!"

"It's just the way I am, Rose. Even before the War, I never told anyone much about my life." The Doctor defended.

"Yeah? And what about the shaking? When did that start?"

"...After the War."The Doctor admitted.

"And how long has it been going on for?" Rose pressed.

"...'Bout a year."

"Which _is _a sign of PTSD."

"That one thing doesn't necessarily mean-"

"And you're jumpy on top of that. You're always looking around like something's going to come after you; sort of flinching whenever there's an unexpected noise. Haven't been sleeping either, don't think I haven't noticed." Rose finished, a tone of decisiveness in her voice. "I don't think you can deny this, Doctor."

"...Drugs do all those things too." The Doctor said, trying his best to act defiantly.

"Drugs give you the munchies." Rose countered.

Pause.

"Damnit."

Despite herself, Rose smirked some, though it faded slightly when she caught the look on the Doctor's face.

"Say this is true," He started, clearly frustrated. "What difference does it make? It's not like it's a cold and I can just get over it."

"Loads of people get over it, Doctor." Said Rose. "It takes them a while, but they do it."

"...PTSD..." Muttered the Doctor. "Bloody figures." He glanced up at Rose. "Last of the Time Lords and I'm defective." He said, a slightly hysteric edge to his voice.

"You're not defective." Rose said quietly. The Doctor shot her a disbelieving glance.

"Really?" He asked, laughing.

"No, you're not." Rose replied. "You're just-" She faltered. What was he? How could she put this?

The Doctor watched as Rose struggled to find the right word and pressed his lips into a thin line.

"I told you." He said, voice tight as he began to back away slowly towards the TARDIS hallway. "_Defective._ " He spat the word, turned from Rose, and _ran, _disappearing into the hallway.

Rose watched as the Doctor ran, wanting to chase after him, but knowing that any attempts would be futile. She fought he urge to punch something as the Doctors's footsteps echoed and faded, leaving her in a deafening silence.

The Doctor wasn't defective. He just needed help dealing with his past sometimes.

Now if only Rose could get him to see that.

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**And there we are. This is an open story. If you guys leave some reviews saying that you want this as a multi chartered story, I'll go ahead and write that. If you guys think this is good as a oneshot and say so, I'll keep it as it is. It's up to you, so go ahead and leave a review saying what you thought and what you think I should do with this. Even if you don't leave a review,thanks for reading, have a great day, and DFTBA!**


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